


Figurative Harmony

by Voyaelm



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Confessions, Fighting, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Maybe a lil ooc, Piggyback Rides, amami protec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 15:23:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19231819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voyaelm/pseuds/Voyaelm
Summary: “What-” Ouma voice breaks into a gasp before he shakes his head and steels himself. “What if I stopped?”“Stopped lying?” Ouma nods, fingers plucking at the ties of his arms.





	Figurative Harmony

**Author's Note:**

> A request on my other Oumami fic for something a bit more cutesy/sweet. It’s got a bit of angst, but overall I think I delivered! Also my first actually work in the canon universe how about that.  
> —  
> If Ouma is a little OOC here, it’s because he hasn’t had to deal with Amami and Akamatsu’s deaths yet.

Amami steps into the long hallway from outside. He’s been sitting on the grass and staring up at the sky since breakfast. Naturally, he’s hungry again.

Even though they are seemingly trapped, Amami still see the vitality of relaxation. Something bad could happen if tensions are too high.

Which is why he is startled when he approaches the dining hall. He hears a loud yell come from behind the door. He’s surprised that he can hear it through the wood.

Amami presses his ear against the large door, trying to listen for anything that would give away the source. He doesn’t know who’s in the room, and he doesn’t know their voices well enough yet.

In the end, he can’t tell exactly who, but he can pick out two distinct voices. One is a lot louder than the other. Amami, knowing that he won’t be able to tell, opens the large door

“Woah, hey. What’s with all the fighting?”

As he expected, he doesn’t get an answer right away. The yelling, however, belongs to Ouma and Momota — who are standing on opposite sides of the table. Amami rolls his eyes; those two have been at each other's throats since they got here. He wouldn’t be shocked if a full-fledged fight broke out.

Amami looks away from the bickering pair only for his eyes to land on Saihara. Sans Akamatsu, he sits as far from them as possible, trying to enjoy his lunch.

Amami stands next to Saihara, palm flat on the top. He doesn’t sit down in case he needs deescalate the situation.

“Same as usual,” Saihara mutters in reply, tugging his hat farther down his pretty face. Huh. Amami wasn’t sure if Saihara heard him or not. “Momota’s upset because Ouma is being… Ouma.”

“Thanks for the catch-up.” Amami pats Saihara twice on the shoulder and Saihara freezes.

“Y-yeah.” He gets back to eating his lunch, wanting to block out the rivals.

Speaking of. They must notice Amami’s sudden appearance because they stop for a moment.

“Amami!” Ouma yells, barely escaping Momota reach to hold him where he was. He tucks himself behind Amami and points at Momota.

“He’s being to mean to me, Amami!”

“Am fucking not!” Momota rebuts. He walks over to the end of the table, probably to clear the new gap.

Amami, while used to being an arbiter, isn’t used to this. He’s never seen himself as the ‘go to’ for protection. So he’s a bit shaken up since Ouma ran for him.

Despite that, when Momota takes a large step towards the pair, a protective instinct fills Amami. He moves his body fully in front of Ouma, attempting to keep him safe from danger.

“He tried to hit me!” Ouma cries and stands on his toes to peer over Amami’s shoulder. “He’s so scary! He should be put down, like a big, mean dog!!” The words must make Momota upset because he lowers his brow and bares his teeth.

Amami does the same, minus the teeth. He isn’t trying to start a fight. He’s trying to end one.

He coaxes Ouma up onto his back. After giving Momota one last glare, he steps out of the dining hall. They run into a few of the others; Amami greets them but keeps walking.  

Amami jostles Ouma while reaching for his room key. He notices that Ouma’s fingers tightened around his shoulders when he did, and that makes him smile. _He’s adorable. Even if he is a menace._

Once Amami gets in the room, Ouma in tow, he locks the door behind them. He prods Ouma’s butt until he ungraciously gets off his back.

Ouma slips around to Amami’s front and stares up at him.

Amami didn’t think to ask Saihara about what actually happened. All he knows is Ouma was being ‘Ouma’ — which could mean a number of things.

Oh well, he might as well try to get information from the source. Amami hopes that Ouma will be _slightly_ honest.

“So, what was all that about?” Amami asks. Ouma doesn’t answer; he only drops his head against Amami’s chest. _Maybe the fight wore him out? Is he tired?_

Amami shakes off as many of his big brother instincts as possible. That isn't what Ouma wants.

But he can’t himself from running a tan hand through the purple hair. “You’re alright. Don’t worry about a thing, yeah?” His fingers slide down Ouma’s neck to start a comforting pressure on his back.

Personally, he doesn’t see why Ouma’s so upset. He’s positive that Momota wasn't being mean; Ouma had to have provoked him.

He must just want the attention. Amami remembers a story about his sisters. He’d spend time with one, and the others would act out in jealousy. In a way, it’s just like Ouma’s acting. Ouma always wants attention; he wants _someone’s_ eyes and ears on him.

Ouma’s mouth contorts into a wicked grin. “Cute~ Amami’s worried about me!”

Ouma scoots closer, reaching out for his hand. Small fingers run along rings. “Of course. Fights don’t happen for no reason.”

Amami tried to steer the conversation back to his original question, but Ouma brushes it off with a snort.

“Now, how could I _possibly_ trust _that?_ Amami couldn’t be worried.” Ouma drops Amami’s hand. “I hate liars, Amami. They can’t be trusted.”

“You worry about trusting me, but I don’t trust you.”

Something about that, out of the blue, shocks Ouma. His mouth drops open and he moves away from Amami.

“You… don’t trust me?”

“All you do is lie. How could I?” Amami’s blunt words make Ouma flinch.

“What-” Ouma voice breaks into a gasp before he shakes his head and steels himself. “What if I stopped?”

“Stopped lying?” Ouma nods, fingers plucking at the ties of his arms. He moves to spin a button. Amami hasn’t seen Ouma like this — he hasn't known him that long, but still. It seems very out of character.

“Yeah. If I-” Ouma gulps, “If I stopped. Would you trust me?”

Amami reaches out, setting a gentle hand on Ouma’s shoulder. He leads the two of them to his bed and sets Ouma in his lap. “You don’t need to stop _completely._ It’s just hard to decipher you.”

“So, I don’t need to be _100%_ honest?”

“No, I guess not. I’d just like it if you’d be somewhat honest about how you feel towards me. Or about something very important” He says his piece, everything on the table. Now, it’s up to Ouma.

“Hmmm. I can do that.” Ouma taps his chin with his index finger in thought. “I’m glad I don’t have to stop lying! ‘Cause you’re fun to mess with!” His voice is loud and happy. He even perks up to lay a kiss on the other’s cheek. Before he speaks again; his voice drops into something slightly more serious, more sweet. “I love you, Amami.”

Amami’s eyes go wide, and — shortly after — so do Ouma’s. He can’t even offer a reply. Ouma beats him to it.

“Kidding! Did you actually believe me? Nishishsi~” He tries to pull away, but the arm Amami snuck around his waist doesn’t allow for that. “Whoopsie daisy! I lied again! And _just_ after I said I’d be honest too. What a draaag.”

Amami lowers his brow and frowns, upset by his words. Ouma’s tone was different than when he usually lied. It’s more of a cover-up lie. Scratch that; it was a cover-up lie. _Ouma is a liar,_ his mind supplies him after a minute, _he’s lying about this. He has to be._

Amami can play that game. He knows how to handle these lies. _Truth_.

“I love you too.” Amami smirks when Ouma leans back to get a better look at him.

“You did hear me, right? I said I lied.”

“I know you did.” He doesn’t specify what about; he doesn’t want to go too far and scare Ouma. It’s like training a cat. “But, that doesn’t mean I did.”

“Amami-” Ouma cuts himself off with a frown before tossing his head around the room. When he seems to have found what he was looking for, he turns back to Amami and kisses him on the lips.

Ouma has to tug on the collar of Amami’s shirt to bring him down to kissing level. It’s cute. Really cute.

Amami tries to maneuver the two of them across the bed without breaking the kiss, which he does succeed at. He hopes he can make this more comfortable for him and Ouma both. The two fall against the pillows, and Ouma detaches their mouths.

“What were you looking for?” As Amami expected, Ouma doesn’t give him a straight answer.

“I don’t think we're being watched.”

“What? Why wouldn’t we be?” Amami asks. He goes stiff when he wonders how he _knows_ that they are being watched all the time. He knows it like he knows his own name. Thankfully, Ouma doesn’t notice.

“Dunno. Monokuma seems _super_ put off by any _intimate_ stuff. And this is a pretty standard place for that. Plus I don’t see any cameras!” He tucks one of his legs under Amami’s knee before kissing him again.

Amami forces the thought out of his head through biting of Ouma’s lip. Wiggling a little, Ouma winces and pulls back.

“Ouchie! You hurt me, Amami.” He lays his hand over his bottom lip and grins down. He doesn’t look upset. He looks… happy.

“‘M sorry.” Amami mumbles, slightly drunk off the kissing. It’s been _quite_ a while since he’s kissed someone, and even longer since he’s kissed someone like _that_. “You can stay in here if you want.” He says in a distracted tone.

“Hmmmm. I wonder why Amami’s offering,” Ouma thinks aloud. Amami looks up quizzically. “Maybe he wants me vulnerable so he can kill me?”

“Ouma, quiet.” Amami commands, and Ouma actually does shut his mouth. That shocks Amami, but he still continues. “None of that. You seem… lonely.”

He curls his hand around Ouma’s thigh, feeling the soft fabric and flesh under his fingers. He squeezes to make sure he has all of Ouma’s attention then tilts his head back.

“You’re an idiot.” Despite his words, Ouma presses their lips together. This kiss, unlike the other, was rough. Well, _rougher_. It wasn’t some cute, confession kiss; but rather one of longing and acceptance. “Tell anyone and you’ll be the dead one, got it?” Ouma mumbles against Amami’s lips.

Amami chuckles. “Yeah.” He brings their lips back together. They shouldn’t be doing something like this in their current situation. But with the way Ouma’s kissing him — loving and _desperate_ — he stops caring.

Neither of them knew how long they lay there in each other’s arms, but they didn’t care. Amami was happy that he found someone to take care of and protect, and Ouma was happy that he found someone who was trustworthy and wouldn’t betray him.

Amami wishes he could handle giving Ouma what he wanted — a relationship that wasn’t necessarily a relationship. To say he was upset with the idea wouldn’t be inaccurate. With these things, Amami prefers true feelings. He doesn’t want to build a relationship with someone who isn’t honest with him.

But, he didn’t know Ouma before they were brought here. Maybe he was honest then, maybe he’s scared to tell the truth now. Amami’s on edge too. He can deal with the lies for now.

Ouma might be worried about the fact that they may be being watched. Amami catches himself focusing on that idea for too long before distracting himself with Ouma’s hair and lips.

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh, that was so much fun to write! I love Oumami and I have another fic that is... a bit more raunchy, so stay tuned!  
> —  
> I take requests! Please send me something you’d like to see from these two boys!


End file.
